


can't complain about much these days

by coronaofastar



Category: The 39 Clues - Various Authors
Genre: Acceptance, Acceptance is a tag? Nice, Coming Out, Family, Gen, okay his parents are a little awkward about it but they tryin tho!!, there is ONLY acceptance there is NO homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-27
Updated: 2020-01-27
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:33:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22432663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coronaofastar/pseuds/coronaofastar
Summary: “So, that’s, uh.” Hamilton cleared his throat. “That’s all I wanted to say.”“You’re...gay,” Mary-Todd said slowly, like she was trying to parse some hidden meaning. Beside her, Eisenhower was dead silent.Hamilton comes out to his parents and everything goes...pretty well, actually.
Relationships: Hamilton Holt/Original Male Character(s)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 33





	can't complain about much these days

**Author's Note:**

> edit 08/17/2020: original title revised & shortened
> 
> so I guess I'm writing for 39 Clues in 2020 huh  
> admittedly I've been harboring Thoughts on this since Hamilton came out in the series! congrats to Ham, we're proud
> 
> self projection what self projection this isn't um haha

“So, that’s, uh.” Hamilton cleared his throat. “That’s all I wanted to say.”

There was a faded red stain in the patch of carpet in front of him. It could have been spaghetti sauce from Sunday dinner, or it could have been blood from Wrestling Wednesdays.

When he made himself look up, Eisenhower and Mary-Todd were staring at him with odd expressions. With his father wearing red and his mother in yellow, they were parked together on the couch like muscular ketchup and mustard bottles.

“You’re...gay,” Mary-Todd said slowly, like she was trying to parse some hidden meaning. Beside her, Eisenhower was dead silent.

“Yes, ma’am,” Hamilton blurted. He couldn’t help it - it was a nervous reflex.

“And you have a boyfriend?”

Hamilton clasped his hands around his right knee, vaguely aware that it was one of Vincent’s nervous ticks. “Yes, ma’am,” he said. His voice was either too loud or too quiet. He couldn’t tell which.

“Well.” His mother was thoughtfully quiet. “How long have you two been…?”

Hamilton winced a little. “About five months.”

“What’s his name?” Eisenhower barked suddenly.

Loud voices were a Holt family trait. Hamilton took comfort in it the same way most people took comfort in the smell of freshly baked pie or cookies or something, but he still jumped. Never mind that he’d grown up with Eisenhower shouting everything - he still jumped. “What?”

Eisenhower leaned forward. “What’s this kid’s name,” he ground. “I’ll get the Tomas to run background checks on him - ”

“Dad, _no,_ ” Hamilton said. “Ian and Cara already did. Extensively. So did Jonah,” he added, when his father _harrumphed_. Those were the only two checks he knew about in the family, anyway, although Jonah hadn’t told him about it. Ham had kind of stumbled on it by himself. “And that’s. Kind of creepy. Look, he’s a good guy, okay?”

His father _harrumphed_ again.

“His name is Vincent,” Hamilton offered. “He coaches a junior hockey team in Pasadena. He’s really smart, and kind, _athletic,”_ he added, because he knew his parents would like that, “and, uh.”

_I think I might be in love with him,_ he didn’t say, not because it’d be too sappy a sentiment for his parents, the #1 Happiest Couple On Earth, but because it’d only been five months and he hadn’t told anyone.

Eisenhower was scowling, but not an angry scowl. It was more of a _I got blindsided by my kid’s emotions and now I have to handle it_ scowl. Hamilton was an expert in Holt scowls. “Does his team win?” he demanded.

“They went to state championships last year,” Ham said.

“He’s a good coach? A good trainer?”

Leave it to his dad to focus on that, of all things. “I think so. I’ve gone to watch practice, a couple times. His team loves him.”

“Hmph. And do you.” Eisenhower’s ears were red. He looked wildly uncomfortable. “Do you. Do you like him?”

Hamilton blinked, stunned. “I mean - ”

“You should invite him over for dinner!” Mary-Todd broke in. Her eyes were very bright. “This way we can all get to meet him. Wouldn’t that be great, honey?”

They were all looking at Eisenhower, who cleared his throat and said gruffly, “I’d like to see this boy of yours myself, sure.”

Hamilton tried to imagine Vincent, chill, suave Vincent, sitting at the dinner table with his family, being unsubtly interrogated by both his parents. It seemed ridiculous. “That - I can probably do that, yeah. It’ll have to be off-season, over a weekend?”

“Off-season,” Mary-Todd agreed. “Maybe all of us can play a game or two of hockey together! There’s a very nice rink - ”

That seemed less ridiculous, and probably did not involve as much interrogation. Hamilton smiled. “Sounds great, Mom,” he said, and meant it. “I’ll check with Vincent, see when he’s free.”

Mary-Todd clapped her hands. “Wonderful. Now, I have to run, but I’ll see you boys for dinner.” She kissed Eisenhower on the cheek, stood, and surprised Hamilton by coming over to give him a bone-crushing squeeze. “We love you, Ham,” she said, grabbed her keys and was out the door, leaving him and his father to stare at each other across the coffee table.

Hamilton started to get up. “I have to, uh, I promised the twins - ”

“Sit,” Eisenhower barked. Hamilton sat. “You didn’t answer me before.”

“About what, Dad?”

His father’s ears were bright red again, but he looked mulishly determined. “Do you like this - this boy, this man you’re dating?”

“Yes, sir.”

Eisenhower’s forehead creased. “And he’s good to you?”

“Yeah.”

“You pound him into the ground if he tries anything funny?”

Hamilton laughed. “Was that a question?”

“In a sense.”

“Yes, Dad,” said Hamilton patiently. “I’ll pound him into the ground if he tries anything funny.”

“Good. Well. As long as that’s clear.” Eisenhower continued to sit there, arms folded across his chest. Hamilton decided that was his cue to leave.

“Uh, good talk,” he said, and made for the back door.

“Ham?”

“Yeah?”

When he turned back, his father was looking at him over the back of the couch. “I’m...very proud of you,” he said. “This family, we’re a team. You’re...a valuable member.”

It was funny - Hamilton hadn’t realized just _how_ nervous he’d been. It suddenly felt like his bones were liquidizing, melting into his muscles. “Thanks,” he managed, throat briefly tight, and then booked it.

Reagan and Madison were waiting in the backyard, looking impatient. They’d stationed themselves there with the promise to slam basketballs through the kitchen window if his coming out went south with their parents, and he’d promised them a game of pick-up in return.

“They took forever,” moaned Madison, bouncing on the balls of her feet. “Now can we play?”

“Yeah, just give me a minute so you can prepare to get your butts kicked,” Hamilton teased, pulling out his phone.

There were two new messages.

The one from his boyfriend had come in just before Hamilton sat his parents down to talk - Vincent had sent _gl babe let me know how it goes x_ , which made him smile. The second one was from Jonah.

_Yo everything b chillin or do you need pickup?_

The one before that, sent last night on Los Angeles time, was _Hey yo remember whatever happens, I got u fam_

 _Went better than I thought_ , Hamilton texted back. _We’re chillin._

One of the twins crashed into him from behind, like she’d been launched from a human catapult. “Minute’s up, Ham!” Madison yelled right in his ear, arms around his neck and legs locked tight around his waist. “Timbeeerrrrrrrrr!”

Reagan swept his legs out from under him. They all crashed down into a heap.

“Good take-down,” Hamilton said. He was only barely winded. “But can you do - THIS?”

He grabbed them both around the waist and hoisted them up over his shoulders like well-muscled, wriggling potato sacks. His sisters were not the squealing, giggling type - they yelled in protest and promptly attacked. Reagan elbowed him hard in the back, and Madison reached around his head to twist his ear.

“Like getting bitten by fleas,” said Ham, just to annoy them, even though it really did hurt, _ouch_. Holts were not known for pulling their punches. He dropped the girls back on their feet.

Reagan shoved him and adjusted her ponytail. Madison, pouting a little, pushed her headband back into place. “You jerk,” she grumbled. “I don’t know what Vincent sees in you.”

Hamilton grinned, smug and wide, and more than a little relieved. Madison could rib him all she wanted without worrying if his parents would overhear now. “My incredible athletic prowess,” he said, and darted around them both to scoop up the ball and sink a free throw before Reagan could yank him to the ground.

All in all, it was shaping up to be a pretty good day.

**Author's Note:**

> Headcanon notes:  
> 1\. Hamilton's boyfriend Vincent is a bisexual trans man! They met at Ham's first Pride.  
> 2\. Ah yes, the Cahills, showing love and concern by RUNNING BACKGROUND CHECKS. Jonah ran one in secret because it was Hamilton's first boyfriend and he wanted to make sure he'd be safe. I imagine Ian marched up to Ham at some point and just said, very crisply, "He passed all background checks and appears to be a very stand-up man."  
> "Thank you...?"  
> (It's Kabra for I Approve.)  
> 3\. It's implied, but Hamilton came out to Reagan and Madison before he told their parents! So at least he had his sisters in his corner for a while.


End file.
